When I got out of the car the country humidity reached in my lungs and took my air, it was nauseating the way it did that to me every time. I jumped down from the truck and closed the door looking at the Jungle of weeds that seem to reappear on Granny's land with more ferociousness every summer. God knows what can be living in there this summer, all kinds of wild animals could be hunting me right now and I would never know. The slam of the truck's driver side door took me out of my growing terror. Granny, immune to the Arkansas humidity, hastily went to the door of the house and battled with the screen door to the screened in patio. Her short hair glistened with sweat and hair oil that she puts in her hair every morning as she won the battle against the screen door and went to the other door, which was easier to open. I ran into the house like a track star when the mosquitoes realized I was here and was bombarded with the dust of spider webs and family history that the old house offered.
Everything was the same every time I walked into this house. The floral couches covered in plastic collected dust on each side of the room making a royal hallway of navy blue carpet and dead bugs of unusual size to the small television on the border of the dining room and living room. It hasn't worked since the beginning of time so I wasn't expecting it to start now. The dining room harvested a medium size dining table where I spent previous summers indulging on the freshest fried catfish and potato wedges I have ever had. The kitchen was a representation of many years of many meals and feasts, it's light yellow, now sprinkled with time and grime, made you hungry but the condition of the stove and sink made you want to wait until you got back to Granny's house. That would change in a matter of hours when Granny would begin to clean but first she had to confront the Jungle on the side of the house. I subconsciously looked for spiders crawling to attack me as Granny walked past me and out the door.
"Get the pans out the truck" she yelled as she trotted down the stairs. Watching my back for creepy crawlies, I ran outside to the truck. The sun was beating mercilessly and it was only nine in the morning, we usually wake up around five-thirty to get ready for our bi-weekly visit to Eudora. Well, Granny probably wakes up around four-thirty to make breakfast: Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and biscuits for the road leaving my brothers behind to ride with PaPa. I remember the truck's headlights hitting the road and the engine growling against its will, it was too early for a trip like this. The early morning fog would hug tree trunks as the sun peaked behind unknown mountain ranges, I knew we were officially on a journey when we passed Granny's salon not two minutes from the house and the A&W gas station down the road. I would try to sleep but it was no use, the trees were hypnotizing as they passed in dark brown and green blurs then as if God wanted to surprise you a blur of flat land would fly by then a house then back again to green and brown blurs. There was no talking in Granny's truck unless it was a mechanical issue:
"You gotta use the restroom?"
"You hungry?"
Other than that we were mostly silent and when we did get hungry she would take out these massive sandwiches with chicken from last night's dinner, American cheese, and this white bread that wasn't really satisfying. I never admitted when I was hungry because I didn't like the bread on the sandwich. I preferred Sonic burgers but only rarely did my wish ever come true. I never drank water with my breakfast because I knew I was going to have to pee later, Granny only ever stopped when she was running out of gas and when she did stop I ran for the bathroom as fast as I could so she wouldn't have to wait for me, she never said it but, it was understood that she was not one to waste time.
I was chased my mosquitoes and dragon flies to the truck where I unloaded pans, cooking spoons, and dishes out of the truck. It was heavy, but I never wanted to ask for help. If Granny wanted to help me, she would've said, "Tayllor, let me help you get the pans out of the truck." But she never said that so I conjured up all my ten year old strength to carry the pans to the stairs, I was going to go the full mile to the kitchen but Granny gently took the bags from me and marched into the kitchen dragging the cooler. I too, one day, wanted to acquire that much strength.
I have problem with bugs. Especially bugs in Arkansas. They are bigger, meaner, and none of them are without teeth to bite you. It was a fear I wrestle with to this day. I watched every corner of the old place looking for a spider to jump on me, they never did, some looked at me from high walls and sneered but none of them ever jumped on me. Flies, however, always jumped on me. They flew in my ear and said boo sending me whirling around like a maniac without medication. If it was really bad, I would call Granny and tell on the fly. Granny sometimes told me, "Goodness girl it's just a horse fly, kill it!" To her they were flies, to me, they were monsters and with an imagination as big as mine, they were impossible to kill. Granny would take out her annoyance with me and smash the evil horse fly with a rolled up newspaper and as if she didn't save my life as I believe she had, she would go back to the kitchen.
I was sitting on the couch playing with old action figures my brothers probably left here when my Granny came out. The little hair she had was tamed with a red head band and her hands were protected to fight the Jungle with gloves that held the goggles just in case the Jungle was feeling belligerent this week. She walked like a soldier to the battle field and I trailed behind her to watch her get the machine. It was a lawn mower,the most powerful I had ever seen. It was red like the truck, and more intimidating than any animal that was lurking in that Jungle. Granny dragged the mower off the truck and drove it to the battle field. I would watch in awe as it roared and began to take the weeds off in lines. Chaos was eaten and tamed to make rows of green luscious grass. When bugs realized I was out, I ran back inside to play with action figures.
The roar of the mower melted into the sound of the country, the trees cooked rather than swayed in the wind, dragon flies' wings even made a beat, dogs barked far off and cars passed occasionally making the dirt sing beneath it. One car would honk from time to time making Granny wave, but the sound of the country stayed the same. The sun made a sizzle sound to the concrete gravel on the empty road, and some animals sung hymns from deep in the woods. But the sound of the country always made you feel alone, nature yelled freely but rarely did you hear the sound of another human being, not for now at least. Hours later the country would welcome the sound of my uncles, and aunts, but that made me feel even more alone until my brothers and cousins came by. When the mowing was done, I knew my playtime in the house was up because she was going to start in on the cleaning of it. Not that she was going to need my help, she never did, but I never felt right playing in front of her. If she can't play, why could I? When she did come into the door, almost at the same time, I went out and became victim to the sizzle of the sun and the bugs. I made my way to the back of the house, which was a whole new world in itself...
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Today
Today was...
Hard.
I tried to wake up like it was any other day. Just another Tuesday morning. My room looks like a mall threw up in it. My cat is way too talkative. My body is rejecting me as school lures closer. Just a normal Tuesday.
But not...
I was riding in the car with my mom laughing about something that probably was really funny but I can't remember what it was, when my phone vibrated. Among smiles and chuckles I check it...
Jazzy:
"Good morning my love. Have a good day with a big hug"
The fact my brother got promoted at his job was a whisper compared to the rushing of a river in my mind that I had damned up last night. I tried to cover it up but my system knows better. I try to paste smiles among screams but it doesn't work...
It was around third period...
My body was really still like a settled lake... Just floating there. I wasn't tired but I was not filled with energy either. I was also board off my butt. It hit me then as I walked out of class that I made a mistake...
I recalled laying in my bed last night remembering that day. The day she fell off. Fell off reality into a deep dark place, I followed her there but was swiftly spat out. I couldn't go where she was, I couldn't reach her way out there.
Every detail was clear in my head from beginning to end. From the first introduction to
Kim
Katlyn
And Nikki
to the last goodbye to Jazzy.
Such an interesting phenomenon but such a sad one too. Something I forget and neglect is how hard that time was for me. I just program into the clock work and drill into memory so deep that it becomes numb to me. Just another tick to match another tock. I forget that it happened, that she had a psychotic break, that she did go to the hospital, that she did start seeing spirits, that she was my best friend... I miss her.
Today was...
Hard.
But tomorrow won't be... I am allowed memories, not obsessive flash backs. So I will sleep soundly tonight...
And pray...
Because that is all I can do...
Hard.
I tried to wake up like it was any other day. Just another Tuesday morning. My room looks like a mall threw up in it. My cat is way too talkative. My body is rejecting me as school lures closer. Just a normal Tuesday.
But not...
I was riding in the car with my mom laughing about something that probably was really funny but I can't remember what it was, when my phone vibrated. Among smiles and chuckles I check it...
Jazzy:
"Good morning my love. Have a good day with a big hug"
The fact my brother got promoted at his job was a whisper compared to the rushing of a river in my mind that I had damned up last night. I tried to cover it up but my system knows better. I try to paste smiles among screams but it doesn't work...
It was around third period...
My body was really still like a settled lake... Just floating there. I wasn't tired but I was not filled with energy either. I was also board off my butt. It hit me then as I walked out of class that I made a mistake...
I recalled laying in my bed last night remembering that day. The day she fell off. Fell off reality into a deep dark place, I followed her there but was swiftly spat out. I couldn't go where she was, I couldn't reach her way out there.
Every detail was clear in my head from beginning to end. From the first introduction to
Kim
Katlyn
And Nikki
to the last goodbye to Jazzy.
Such an interesting phenomenon but such a sad one too. Something I forget and neglect is how hard that time was for me. I just program into the clock work and drill into memory so deep that it becomes numb to me. Just another tick to match another tock. I forget that it happened, that she had a psychotic break, that she did go to the hospital, that she did start seeing spirits, that she was my best friend... I miss her.
Today was...
Hard.
But tomorrow won't be... I am allowed memories, not obsessive flash backs. So I will sleep soundly tonight...
And pray...
Because that is all I can do...
Sunday, February 21, 2010
The Spirit of Theatre
The Spirit of theater has nothing to do with show time, rehearsals, roles, or even what play. It's a state of mind that I believe theater has had since the beginning of time. I never experienced it or even knew it existed until I was in a play myself. It was the opening night for RENT...
Nervous was an understatement for what I was. I didn't even have a big part, I was a homeless person and a soloist here and there, but this was my first play ever and I had no idea what to expect. The dressing room had a blanket of silence forced over it as the choreographer's assistant was telling us to "Shut up and focus!". All you could hear was the clicking of heels from one side of the room to the next and the scrambling of people outside, only making me more anxious as the clock ticked until the house was open. My heart was having a tantrum in my chest. This had been a long journey of blood, sweat, and tears and sometimes all three at one rehearsal. Tensions were high and it was thirty minutes before the show and we had not become the happy family I saw in our rehearsal room posted on the wall. The endless photos of smiles and successful productions dating back more than five years ago hung, framed in the back room; newspaper articles and group photos of friends not just acquaintances in a play. Those must have been the good old days because tonight did not feel like anything compared to those pictures. Who seemed to be my only friend in this cast helped me with makeup as time seemed to stand still and fly by simultaneously. I preordained this play as a disaster. I didn't feel apart of a an expressive unit of creativity and art, but more like a donkey pulling a play that weighs tons... Actually I was a donkey getting dragged by a play, my head sweeping up nonsense in the dirt road as they moved forward at paces and by means I didn't understand.
Fifteen minutes...
Ten Minutes...
I was ready and pointlessly wondering around the dressing room until the play started. It was then I saw a body come up and hug me,
"I love you. Break a leg girl." It must have been an awkward hug for her because I was so shocked I didn't know what to do. An ocean of hugs rippled to me and to everyone else. The blanket of silence was lifted slightly as whispers of, "break a leg" and "you're going to do great" reverberated off of the seemingly steel walls. The walls melted, the lights that illuminated the face of the actresses dimmed, and smiles became apparent.
"Actors, places" was yelled from the hallway and we all filed out of the dressing room to meet the boys as they were coming out of their dressing room. Hugs continued with kisses and smiles. I was in the twilight zone, I was pretty sure we were all going to say nothing to each other as to keep the focus but unknown to me the focus had changed. I was bombarded with hugs as I made my way off stage. I was making my way to the left side of the stage when I crossed the path of the leading actress and thought I would smile just for kicks, I was sure she hated my guts. She opened her arms as wide as the stage it seemed and held me tight,
"Break a leg!" I said the same as we crossed paths. I was speechless. I was going be even more speechless when I found out she got everyone in the cast a small gift as was the custom on Broadway. I got to my side of the stage and sat on the table battling my nervousness in a small cage within my core. Not the best place to fight your emotions. A group of actors were coming out and I tried the smile again. One of them returned it whispering,
"I'm so nervous! We should start a beating circle!" I regurgitated my nervousness too as she took my hand calling over some more actors. A circle began to form and we transferred beats. Each person would squeeze the hand of the other and it would go around the circle harnessing our nervous energy.
Then the lights began to fade... Followed by the screaming and clapping of the audience. I got a tsunami of more hugs and smiles from people I have barely talked to throughout the whole process. I turned to go farther back as not to be seen by the audience when I ran into the broad chest of the leading actor. I didn't mind that but I was even more taken back when he took me into his arms and whispered,
"Break a leg" before going into the spotlight to start the play off. I was overcome with an emotion that I have seen before, in the pictures framed on the rehearsal walls. The connection, though long overdue, flooded my heart as it slowly slept. The music began and I took my cue to start the opening song, "RENT" with the rest of the cast...
I have one more weekend left, and I'm embarrassed to say it but, I'm dreading the last show. The last time I will be able to be a part of this unit, this family, as we create and retell the story. But I have learned a couple of things though:
1)Get ahead in school work before Hell Week
2)There is no such thing as a "theater person"
3)Stage Left and Stage Right are from your point of view when you're looking at the audience
And I have experienced one great thing,
The Spirit of Theater...
Nervous was an understatement for what I was. I didn't even have a big part, I was a homeless person and a soloist here and there, but this was my first play ever and I had no idea what to expect. The dressing room had a blanket of silence forced over it as the choreographer's assistant was telling us to "Shut up and focus!". All you could hear was the clicking of heels from one side of the room to the next and the scrambling of people outside, only making me more anxious as the clock ticked until the house was open. My heart was having a tantrum in my chest. This had been a long journey of blood, sweat, and tears and sometimes all three at one rehearsal. Tensions were high and it was thirty minutes before the show and we had not become the happy family I saw in our rehearsal room posted on the wall. The endless photos of smiles and successful productions dating back more than five years ago hung, framed in the back room; newspaper articles and group photos of friends not just acquaintances in a play. Those must have been the good old days because tonight did not feel like anything compared to those pictures. Who seemed to be my only friend in this cast helped me with makeup as time seemed to stand still and fly by simultaneously. I preordained this play as a disaster. I didn't feel apart of a an expressive unit of creativity and art, but more like a donkey pulling a play that weighs tons... Actually I was a donkey getting dragged by a play, my head sweeping up nonsense in the dirt road as they moved forward at paces and by means I didn't understand.
Fifteen minutes...
Ten Minutes...
I was ready and pointlessly wondering around the dressing room until the play started. It was then I saw a body come up and hug me,
"I love you. Break a leg girl." It must have been an awkward hug for her because I was so shocked I didn't know what to do. An ocean of hugs rippled to me and to everyone else. The blanket of silence was lifted slightly as whispers of, "break a leg" and "you're going to do great" reverberated off of the seemingly steel walls. The walls melted, the lights that illuminated the face of the actresses dimmed, and smiles became apparent.
"Actors, places" was yelled from the hallway and we all filed out of the dressing room to meet the boys as they were coming out of their dressing room. Hugs continued with kisses and smiles. I was in the twilight zone, I was pretty sure we were all going to say nothing to each other as to keep the focus but unknown to me the focus had changed. I was bombarded with hugs as I made my way off stage. I was making my way to the left side of the stage when I crossed the path of the leading actress and thought I would smile just for kicks, I was sure she hated my guts. She opened her arms as wide as the stage it seemed and held me tight,
"Break a leg!" I said the same as we crossed paths. I was speechless. I was going be even more speechless when I found out she got everyone in the cast a small gift as was the custom on Broadway. I got to my side of the stage and sat on the table battling my nervousness in a small cage within my core. Not the best place to fight your emotions. A group of actors were coming out and I tried the smile again. One of them returned it whispering,
"I'm so nervous! We should start a beating circle!" I regurgitated my nervousness too as she took my hand calling over some more actors. A circle began to form and we transferred beats. Each person would squeeze the hand of the other and it would go around the circle harnessing our nervous energy.
Then the lights began to fade... Followed by the screaming and clapping of the audience. I got a tsunami of more hugs and smiles from people I have barely talked to throughout the whole process. I turned to go farther back as not to be seen by the audience when I ran into the broad chest of the leading actor. I didn't mind that but I was even more taken back when he took me into his arms and whispered,
"Break a leg" before going into the spotlight to start the play off. I was overcome with an emotion that I have seen before, in the pictures framed on the rehearsal walls. The connection, though long overdue, flooded my heart as it slowly slept. The music began and I took my cue to start the opening song, "RENT" with the rest of the cast...
I have one more weekend left, and I'm embarrassed to say it but, I'm dreading the last show. The last time I will be able to be a part of this unit, this family, as we create and retell the story. But I have learned a couple of things though:
1)Get ahead in school work before Hell Week
2)There is no such thing as a "theater person"
3)Stage Left and Stage Right are from your point of view when you're looking at the audience
And I have experienced one great thing,
The Spirit of Theater...
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